Angel of the East Village
by Subia Jasmine
Summary: A one-shot RENT fanfiction story about Angel's death and Mimi's resurrection. I developed it on the way home from Nederlander Theater. R&R, no flames please.


Disclaimer: First off, I hate doing these. I don't own any of the characters I mention here, because they all belong to the estate of the genius Jonathan Larson and whatever branch of Broadway helped to produce RENT. I'm just borrowing the characters; I'll give them back soon. (I also admit to using a bit of author's liscense, I don't know how long after the death the funeral was) Now on with the fanfiction...  
  
I was at the Cat Scratch Club when I received the call.  
  
I had just finished my last "dance" for the day, and I was still out of breath from the buzz I only got after work and hits.  
  
I was getting dressed backstage to head home to Roger. He had promised he would cook that night for me and Mark, but honestly I didn't trust him in the kitchen with anything more complicated than boiling water. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Marquez!"  
  
I rolled my eyes. It was the sharp voice of Chris, the manager of the club. I was always getting hit on by Chris, and I wondered what his "pickup line for the week" was this time.  
  
_"Marquez!"_ Chris pounded insistently on my door. "You've got a call!"  
  
I was still only halfway through dressing, but still, none of my friends would have called me at work unless it was something important, so I pushed open the door and grabbed the phone from Chris. Instinctively, he reached out for my chest, but I angrily swatted his hand away. I was used to his constant groping, but I didn't feel the need to be polite now that he knew Roger could kick his ass if I asked him to.  
  
Slamming the door in his face, I held the receiver to my ear and to my astonishment, I heard barely restrained sobbing coming from the other end of the line.  
  
"Collins? Baby, what is it?" I had never heard Collins fall apart like this. "Talk to me, Collins, what's the matter?"  
  
Tears shook Collins' deep voice as he answered me.  
  
"Mimi... I think..." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I think this is it. Please come and see us, he's asking for you guys..."  
  
My heart clutched and my mind suddenly disengaged. We all knew in our hearts that Angel had been weak for months, that eventually AIDS would get the better of him. But he was so young, only a few years older than me, why did he have to be the first....?  
  
"Collins, tell Angel to hold on, I'm on my way!"  
  
"Call Joanne and Maureen for me, OK? Please hurry, Mimi..."  
  
"Of course, Collins. Hold on..."  
  
I snatched up my blouse and skirt and raced out the door. Chris was yelling something, but my screaming heart blocked him out. I ran all the way to the loft, where Collins was sure to have taken Angel, stopping only once to dial Joanne and Maureen from a pay phone to relay the message.  
  
I pushed open the door into the loft and looked around for Roger. He stood by the door to his room, his face was pale and his eyes had a helpless look in them. Silently, he reached out for me, and I fell into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"We have to go in, Roger. He was asking for us."  
  
Roger shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. I pushed him away, but Roger held me back.  
  
"Wait until Collins comes back out. They deserve to be alone." He was biting his lip to keep from crying. "Come on, Mimi. When that's you, won't you want time alone with me?"  
  
"To hell with you, Roger! And when that's _you_, won't you want Collins and Maureen and Mark and Joanne with you?" I pushed against him, wanting to get into the room.  
  
"Mimi, please, don't make this harder than it is already!" He pleaded. "Give them a minute, for God's sake!"  
  
But I wasn't listening to him. One of my best friends in the world was lying in Roger's room dying, and I wanted to be with him. I wanted to say goodbye. Finally, I broke free of Roger and pushed into his room. I took a breath and tried my hardest not to scream.  
  
Angel's skin, pale to begin with, was almost transparent. His clothes were literally hanging off of his frail body. He was shaking uncontrollably, and having fits of coughing. It broke my heart to see him so weak, but Collins helped him to sit up against the pillows so he could see me.  
  
His thin face brightened somewhat. Forcing a smile to his lips, Angel was able to whisper a greeting to me.  
  
"Hey Mimi." he coughed  
  
Collins held his shoulders dutifully as Angel began retching into a bowl at his bedside. Gathering his love's weak frame into his arms, he rocked Angel gently, stroking his hair and whispering consolingly. His face was as helpless-looking as Roger's, and he fought back tears, as a shadow seemed to fall across the room taking Angel with it as it receded. Joanne and Maureen burst in a moment later, dragging Roger and Mark with them. Joanne's glasses fell off as she ran in and knelt at Angel's bedside. She reached out and hugged him gently; Angel collapsed into her and buried his face in her shoulder. By that point everyone was sobbing quietly, but Angel pushed himself upright with a surprising amount of strength. He shook his head weakly.  
  
"Please..." he begged us. "Don't cry, guys. You know how much I love hearing you laugh..." He almost collapsed against the headboard, but he forced the words out.  
  
"After I leave, I want you to promise you'll keep living. All of you, okay? And don't think I won't be watching you..."  
  
He looked at us all with mock defiance in his face, and through our tears we smiled slightly. This was Angel as we knew her. We all promised, and sat on the bed to embrace him again.  
  
"Angel, you mean so much to all of us. You have to know that." I told him with a hug. "You're like a brother to me. We all love you so much." I saw his eyes shining with pride.  
  
"And you all mean so much to me..." he coughed again.  
  
Each of us gave our tributes, and we all reminded him how much we loved him. He told us he loved us too when he could, and even when he was coughing too hard to speak, he reminded us with the glow in his eyes.  
  
We stayed with him throughout the day, taking turns holding his hand. Finally, he asked if he could be alone with Collins. We all embraced him tightly one last time, and left the room.  
  
A moment later, Collins emerged, carrying the limp form of Angel in his arms. We bowed our heads, Collins kissed Angel gently on the forehead for the final time, and lay him on the couch.  
  
We stayed with Collins until the funeral two days later, and reminded him we would always be there for him if he needed us. Frequently he called out in his sleep for Angel, then woke up and began to weep as he remembered.  
  
Things seemed to fall apart after his death. Mark and Roger got into a huge fight, ending in Roger leaving for Santa Fe, I got back together with Benny, Mark accepted the job from the tabloid show host, and Collins fell into depression. The family we had created with Angel had died with her.  
  
But that was almost three months ago. It was before Joanne and Maureen found me in the snow earlier this evening, and brought me to Roger's side to die. I remember him telling me that I had been his song all along, and it had taken so much for him to get the message. But that was before I had to let go.  
  
My soul was ripped from me as I ascended. I was in some sort of a tunnel, with a light at the end. But out of nowhere it seemed Angel suddenly appeared. I couldn't believe my eyes. Her face was full and healthy, she was wearing her dress and makeup, and she had smile on her face. She told me I had to go back to Roger, to listen to the song he was singing to me, and then had disappeared with a final smile.  
  
It had taken everything I had in me to force my soul back to where it belonged, but I knew life had other plans for me, and the thought of Roger was enough to sustain me. I had woken up to Roger's tears, and as I relayed my story, I could see Collins look up out the window of the loft, and smile up at the sky.  
  
And I could have sworn that Angel smiled back. 


End file.
